Serial Saturday: "Clan of Outcasts" Season 3, Part 18 "Guardianship"

Part 18

"Guardianship"

A Distant Harbor, Three Years Prior....

Just keep moving, the young man thought to himself--although such a thing seemed impossible, with more objects and beings to impede their progress than clear paths through it all. Only someone with absolute confidence or no intellect at all would attempt to enter the vicinity of this particular port without an agenda or a destination in mind. All he had was a very specific desire, and a narrow window of time in which to achieve it. He ventured a glance over his shoulder, where one hand held the wrist of a small girl as they threaded their way through wagons, crates, herds of livestock, porters, merchants, and everything in between. Her steps stumbled and a passing cart full of steamer trunks nearly clipped her.

"Keep up!" He cautioned as he drew her in close, throwing his body between hers and danger and surrounding her with his arms. "We're almost there."

"It's no use!" she whimpered as she huddled against him. "They're going to catch us! We'll never be able to run far enough!" Her dark eyes fixed on his chin and her brow knit reproachfully. "Why did you have to sneak me out like that?"

He set his jaw, not trusting himself to meet her gaze. Because that place would have broken you, his thoughts ran. Because if I hadn't come, if we hadn't run... He satisfied himself with a tighter grip on her shoulder as he scanned the crowd for their pursuers. They didn't need to think about what would have been. "Listen to me closely," he whispered in a voice for her ears only, "as long as I'm alive, you are never going back to that manor ever again! We're not just leaving the city--we're leaving this continent."

The pair ducked behind a brightly-colored stream of well-dressed passengers just getting off a pleasure cruise. He kept his eyes fixed on those slouchy woolen hats that roved carefully through the muddle and noise, searching, waiting, combing for the missing servant girl. The farther they could get from those prying eyes, the better.
"Where will we go?" he almost missed her question.

He closed his eyes, shutting out everything but the dim purple glow that settled over the darkness behind his eyelids. The glow brightened, unfolding into the scene from his dream that had prompted the series of actions leading to this point: a glowing figure with a long white beard, and a string of stones glowing blue as brightly as the string of magical energy coursing through his skin glowed purple. He understood; he would know what this magic could do, how to harness the energy that had arisen inside the young boy's body one morning.

"Risyn!" The girl's frantic tone urged him to open his eyes. The purple streak glowed brightly in front of them, an enchanted thread only he could see. He looked down.
"I asked if you knew where we could go!" she reminded him. "Those men are getting closer to us!" She pointed over his shoulder, where the crowd had thinned somewhat, so the slouch-hatters had resumed studying all the heads below shoulder-level. Any moment now...

"This way!" Risyn hissed, guiding the small girl down the pier toward a large ship with plenty of sails, looking outfitted for particularly long journeys. Standing on the dock overseeing the transport of cargo onto his ship was a portly man with thick, grey hair, and a beard billowing down his chest.
"Excuse me!" Risyn called as they approached.

A black shape on the man's shoulder shifted and let out an ugly croak, and the man turned to face the pair. His eyes gleamed, and the sunlight reflected off his glossy red nose.
"Can I help ye, lad?" he asked.

Risyn nodded. "Are you the captain of this vessel?" he asked.

The bearded man nodded, while a burly giant of a man watched them keenly from the deck overhead. "I am--what business is it of yours?"

Risyn tilted his head, watching the purple thread extend down the dock in front of them and up the gangplank. Whatever awaited at the end of that thread, they would reach it with that ship--and somehow, deep inside his psyche, Risyn discovered that he already knew why. "You are destined for The Realm--and that is where I must go, as well."

The gleaming eyes narrowed, and the grey beard bristled. "I don't carry passengers, boy," he growled. "I don't suppose you're going to offer me money for a berth, just because we might happen upon the place you're wanting to go?"
Risyn stood his ground. The magic curled around his feet, coursing up through his legs and into his whole body. "We have no money, we only need to leave immediately."
The captain laughed in his face. "HA! No money? What else can ye offer me, then?" His eyes dropped down to the girl currently clutching to Risyn's shoulder.

Risyn shifted his stance, placing more of his body between her and the captain. "I can offer you my skills," he said, calling the flow of magic out to the surface of his fingertips.
The gaze focused on him once more. "Skills? You ever been on a boat, boy?"

Risyn shook his head, but gestured with his hand. In the blue sky overhead, a cloud formed, a regular flat-bottomed storm cloud--and with its shade came a thick breeze. At another gesture from the young man, the cloud vanished, and everything was humid air and blazing sun once more.
He stopped to observe the captain's reaction, but the bushy-bearded man merely waited. Risyn sighed, and pointed to the large crate still waiting on the dock, as the bald boatswain hollered names at the riggers trying to find the right ropes to hoist it aboard.

The wood creaked, and the dock swayed a little as the massive crate began slowly levitating off the dock. Sweat broke out on Risyn's scalp, but he maintained the telekinetic pressure, lifting the crate onto the deck of the ship with nothing but his own willpower. As a final demonstration, Risyn reached toward the captain's coat, and--without touching the man at all--pulled something out of the captain's pocket: his tarnished hip flask.
The captain snatched the flask away from Risyn with his left hand, while extending his right in greeting. "I think I've seen enough. Welcome aboard the Brigadier's Ransom, lad! My name is Captain Haggard. What should we call you?"

Risyn smiled and shook his hand. "My name is Risyn, and this is my sister--"
Haggard was still nodding when he interrupted. "And can she do all that, same as you?"
Risyn shook his head. "No, sir, but--"

Haggard also shook his head. "Then I'm afraid we ain't got room for more than one stranger on board."
Risyn saw the fear in his sister's eyes, and he pulled her closer. "I'm afraid I must insist that she comes with me, or neither of us will board your ship."
Haggard's face clouded, and Risyn continued. "I will consent to use my power to aid in giving you fair winds and friendly seas, and the other ways that I have demonstrated here, if you allow me and my sister to sail with you to The Harbor in The Realm. She might not have my abilities, but she can cook and clean and she is a fast learner."

Haggard finally tugged his beard. "I suppose she's small enough, she won't take up much room. The cook could probably use an extra set of hands as well. Very well, Risyn--I agree to your terms!"
They shook hands again, and this time, Risyn followed Captain Haggard up the gangplank. They cast off, leaving the hellish manor, the slouch-hatted goons, and all their troubles behind. Risyn recalled to mind the Light-Mage from his vision; soon he would have answers!

The grumpy, sallow-faced cook stood in the galley of the Brigadier's Ransom and stared at the wide-eyed waif standing before her.
"What's yer name, gerl?" she whistled between missing teeth.
The young girl folded her arms to keep from trembling. What had her brother gotten them into this time?
"My name is Quilla," she said in a small voice.
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Present Day, The Forest Kingdom of Elvendom

"Presenting the High Prince and Princess of the Forest Kingdom! All hail Prince Aspen and Princess Mignonette!"

Velora murmured her hails along with the others--namely, the guards posted around the perimeter of the room. Gavin and Raedyn were too busy gawking at the vaulted ceiling of what looked to be a royal palace carved out of a giant tree. Velora knew better than to take such an incredible sight for granted--but she was too annoyed at the way they clung to their little ceremonies even when there was no one to intimidate or impress, really. Other than soldiers, the four Royals were the only Elves present.

Prince Aspen crossed the room and ascended the dais to sit upon his throne, while Mignonette did the same. On either side, Prince Spruce and Princess Tamarind waited their turn to take their thrones.
The silver-haired High Prince glared down at the three humans.

"Well?" he grunted. "What have you to say for yourselves?"

Velora seethed visibly, but she knew better than to speak until Aspen nodded toward her.
"What is the meaning of this summons?" she demanded. "I have already explained to Spruce the reason why you cannot force us to reclaim your dragon for you--"

"We have relinquished our claim upon the dragon," Aspen interrupted her. "Since she has seen fit to lay and hatch her egg outside of the sanctuary in our domain, she has staked her claim upon the mortal domain, and secured her own emancipation from the restrictions of both realms. We are no longer concerned with the augmented human who claims to share a bond with her, either--he has been absolved of his crimes in the eyes of the Crown."

Velora checked her rising temper. "Then, your Highness, why are we here?"

His strange, golden gaze locked on her in a way that made it impossible for her to break his gaze in any way. "I have summoned you here, as the Chief Forest Warden and the officially-recognized human liaison to the Elvish Realm, because it has come to my attention that your rulers knowingly shelter, in their very castle, at the heart of The Realm, a highly dangerous individual." His eyes shifted, but only slightly, so that Velora still felt him looking right at her. "There is one among you who knows of whom I speak."

Raedyn gave a strangled sort of yelp. Velora felt the wall of putrid fear leaching off of him. "N-no! I don't know anything! I swear!"
Velora held up her hand. "The threat of assassination has already been mitigated. This man is no longer a threat to The Realm."

Aspen leaned forward, fury a mask on his face. "This man is not the individual himself, but he is very much in league with the party responsible for this insidious breach of security!"

Raedyn's knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor between Gavin and Velora--much the same response after vanishing briefly and claiming to have seen Juros. "I don't know anything! I just took the job--I swear, that's as far as my involvement goes! Please don't torture me! I don't know anything!"

Alarm heightened Velora's senses, and she narrowed her eyes at Spruce's side of the dais. Sure enough, the Low Prince deftly manipulated a ball of energy in his hand, with his gaze fixed on the trembling, bawling Raedyn.

"Stop this at once!" she thundered, and all four Elvish royals fixated on her. "Your Majesty," she bowed to Aspen. "I recognize that this is your domain, and I acknowledge that you carry the authority here, so I will not presume to require your compliance according to my directions--but rather than torturing this man who I assure you is under my protection... and willingly pardoned for his misdeeds by Juros himself," she added for good measure, whether she wholly believed it or not, "perhaps it would be better suited to your interests to explain just what is the nature of the threat you are telling me about." Could it possibly have something to do with the fiasco at The Harbor last night?

Aspen sighed, and nodded. "Not much is known about her identity nor what sort of legacy she carries, but she is a Gifted queen who regards herself an enemy of Juros and anyone he has Blessed--and she has made it her life's goal to discover the mortal legend known as the Gate To Paradise."
Velora blinked, recalling all the conversations and revelations Jade had explained during the campaign against Troy three years prior. "Paradise--you mean, like Juros' own realm?"

Mignonette took up the account with a nod. "The very same," she said. "It is said that Juros entrusted the Key to this Gate to his Knights who remained within the mortal domain, and they were the ones who had jurisdiction over who could access Justicia through this Gate."

"However," Aspen interjected, "The mortals began using the Blessings Juros gave them as means to destroy each other, and so, not wanting the evil to spread into his own domain, he locked the Gate and scattered his Knights, so that none of them knew which one had the Key, nor how to unlock the Gate and restore the direct connection to Justicia. The very location of the Gate has been lost to mortal generations, and has sank into myth and rumor."

Velora's mind spun as she digested this information. "But now someone is actually looking for the Gate, and wants the Key?"

Aspen nodded. "The Dark Queen wants to wrest control of the Gate, so that she can control direct access to Juros, and exact her revenge. But to do that, she needs to know where it is, and she needs the Key to open it."

Velora sighed. Did the threats never stop coming? "So you're saying she has an agent somewhere in the Castle because the Key is supposed to be there?"

"The Key was there!" Low Princess Tamarind sprang from her throne. The glistening bloodlines on her face stood out like a glittering veil. "I sensed it myself! But just a short while ago, it departed The Realm--what can we assume but that it is headed for the Dark Queen herself, carried by another of her agents?"

"Please understand how serious this is, Forest Warden Velora," Aspen entreated her, for once not ordering her about coldly. "The location of the Gate has been held secret by Elves for many generations, buried in our records so that no mortal may find it without our knowledge--but if the Dark Queen receives the Key, and finds where the Gate is, there is very little that can stop her from waging war against Juros himself, and no place he can hide from her."

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